


Special Order

by Asherini



Series: Charlastor Week 2021 [7]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Charlastor Week, Escort Service, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Reunions, Semi-Public Sex, Sex-Favorable Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Sexual Roleplay, Teacher/Student Roleplay, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asherini/pseuds/Asherini
Summary: Faced with a reunion she doesn’t want to attend, Angel hooks her up with a special date.
Relationships: Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor/Charlie Magne, Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Cherri Bomb/Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Charlastor Week 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198430
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Special Order

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 Prompt: Free Day 💋🦌
> 
> I do not own any rights to Hazbin Hotel or its characters.

The invitation laid imposingly on the cool, granite countertop. One simple piece of paper that held such dread and foreboding that even glimpsing at it caused her to shudder. For over two weeks, ever since opening the envelope, it had sat there gathering dust, while she did all within her power to ignore it. For a while, she had succeeded, but once her friends had started getting their letters, their excitement had been poured onto her, magically forgetting any apprehension that she might have had on her part.

Vaggie, her beautiful, eye-patch wearing Latina of a best friend had been subtle. She was taking her long-time girlfriend, Cherri, to the event and, in preparation, invited Charlie to join them dress shopping. Never one to say no to anyone, let alone her cherished friends, she had gone. The adorable couple had done their best to make her feel welcome and put her mind at ease, even going as far as buy her some cupcakes from her favorite bakery. All three women had left with beautiful cocktail dresses, though really only two left with bright spirits.

Anthony, or Angel as he preferred nowadays, was her handsome, Italian second-best friend, and he had not been subtle. He had swung by her medium-sized apartment, not bothering to ask about her plans for the day and dragged her out to shop for nothing in particular. In his own way, he always meant well, and he prattled on about how he and his on again, off again, boyfriend, Husk, had purchased their tuxedos and encouraged her to look at the bright side of attending and being able to ‘knock ‘em dead, toots’. At the end of their outing, he had shared causally that he had secured her a companion for the evening in question, and all she needed to do was meet the mysterious person at a designated date and time. He had quickly left after springing that doozy on her and she had left dizzy from the conversation.

The three friends had grown up together, and when it had been time, they went to university together. Ever excited at the prospect of learning, she enjoyed her time at school, selecting a major in psychology, with a minor in social work. For the most part, she managed to get along well with everyone, and enjoyed her education, at least until a rather public breakup with a wealthy, popular upperclassman in her sophomore year had branded her an outcast. The remaining years of college were borderline unbearable and, if had not been for her scholarship, she would have transferred.

Regardless of social difficulties, she had graduated top of her class and had made a name for herself in the nonprofit space, even snagging a promotion with a manager title earlier this year. ‘Reunion’, to her, was surely to be used as an opportunity for treasured colleagues to get together to share current achievements and milestones, while also reminiscing about memories past. There was no one at that college she wanted to reconnect with; at least not anyone with whom she didn’t already maintain an active, healthy friendship.

Yet, on the day, she found herself going through the motions of preparing for the evening; she showered, curled her long, blonde hair, and dressed. In her crimson dress, she was a vision, its off the shoulder design naturally drew the eye to her delicate collarbone and ample cleavage on generous display. The flirty A-line cut of the dress fell to her upper thigh when it pitched out, thanks to the full, black petticoats, and she pulled her hair into a half ponytail, letting it cascade down her back like a golden waterfall. She wore simple gold and ruby jewelry that matched her makeup, a light dusting of gold on her lids with just a touch of red on her outer corners and sparkling gloss on her lips that made them look even more pouty than they naturally were. Had anyone seen the beautiful, young woman, they likely would have thought she was eager for an exciting evening. They would have been sorely mistaken.

In a white lace bolero and red pumps, she found herself waiting in front of the supermarket to meet her blind date, the butterflies in her stomach near uncontrollable. Several patrons pushed their shopping carts by the stunning beauty, openly gawking and pointing, which did nothing to ease her nerves, making her feel like an animal behind glass in a zoo. Attempting to make herself look less conspicuous, she held her clutch under one arm as she browsed the internet on her phone, unsure if she’d rather the mysterious person showed up soon or not at all. Distracted as she was, she did not notice the sleek, black sportscar that parked nearby.

Amber eyes widened from where he sat, the powerful automobile dying quietly when he removed the key. This was quite a surprise. Normally, he was used to accompanying rich, married women, who were not necessarily unattractive, but nevertheless never his type. Those women merely wished for a younger man to hang on their every word, a quick romance with no strings attached, which was certainly agreeable to him. But the sweet, young thing standing outside now was simply breathtaking, her long, silken hair falling in luscious curls and large, doe eyes so beautifully expressive. He smirked; his evening was definitely looking up.

Gracefully, he exited his car, straightening his sharp, onyx tuxedo, and adjusting the scarlet bowtie in its matching, high-collar dress shirt. Arms at his back and not a care in the world, he approached her, grin spreading when those deep pools of her eyes finally landed on him, a soft blush spreading prettily across her beautiful face as she discreetly looked him up and down. Oh yes, he would enjoy this.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” he greeted with a low, melodical voice. “My name is Alastor Baudelaire. I don’t suppose I would be lucky enough to be your company for the evening?”

Shyly, she lowered her eyes, busying herself with putting her phone away, before returning to those hauntingly intense eyes and strikingly handsome face. Unsure of proper etiquette, she fell into a quick, but nimble curtsey before raising her eyes to his. It was all she could do to not simply sigh and melt into a useless mess at his feet when he offered her a charming, close-lipped smile.

“Good evening, Alastor. My name is Charlotte Magne, but you may call me Charlie, if you like,” she responded softly. “Are you Angel’s friend?”

Friend was a strong word. Alastor in truth was a local radio personality, who merely happened to be a colleague of Angel’s boss, Valentino. The tall, ebony skinned pimp had caught him hiding a body one dark and stormy evening and, after a rather heated conversation that had nearly ended with both of them dead, it was agreed for the price of his occasional escort services, Valentino regularly assisted with ‘clean up’ activities. For the most part, the brunette was able to pick his clientele and kept all his earnings outside of the initial reservation fee; so far it had been a lucrative side hustle. It also allowed him unique access to different places and people within the city as well as unemotional ways to fulfill his libido.

“You could say so, for my part, darling.” Bending low at the waist, he collected one of her hands, _so delicate_ , to kiss her knuckles, noting the hint of saccharine perfume she wore. “Shall we?”

Offering her his arm, he led her to his car, taking care to open the door for her and helping her inside. This appointment, his services specifically, had been requested by Angel, Valentino’s prized star. Looking at the dame, she didn’t seem the type to pay for something like an escort; she was definitely enchanting enough to not need it. No, he had a feeling this might have been a result of two things. The first, Valentino wanting to keep his top earner happy and waving the cost, likely in exchange for another picture deal from Angel. The second, was his own damn fault for getting overly inebriated and lamenting to Husk, who bartended at Val’s place, about the lack of blondes he’d had recently. He’d had have to tip Husk handsomely the next time he visited the bar, if the old man had a hand in this.

“So, what do you for a living, Alastor?” Her tone was sweet and light, genuinely interested as she turned to face him slightly in the stylish vehicle.

Glancing at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road, he smiled. “I work in radio, darling.”

“Oh my gosh! I knew I recognized your voice!” Excitedly, she bounced in her seat, wearing a smile so lovely and endearing that he had to remind himself to focus on his driving. “Are you on 89.9 WWNO3? I listen to your show all the time. You’re the infamous Radio Demon, right?”

Starstruck, she did her best not to just stare at the man. How she had managed to nab a date with a celebrity, she wasn’t sure, but her cheeks were starting to hurt from how much she was smiling. He was so attractive, with a voice that surely made people everywhere swoon, and if he hadn’t approached her directly, she might have thought he was supposed to have met someone else. _I’m so lucky!_

“Well, color me surprised, sweetheart,” he grinned devilishly, ego stroked to have such a pretty little thing in his audience. “For a young thing like you, I would not have thought jazz to be up your alley.”

“Are you kidding?! How can anyone _not_ like jazz? Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, oh, I could go on and on!”

When the doll started singing ‘Fever’ by Peggy Lee, he almost swerved off the road. Sultry notes woven into the air with a trained skill, the blonde next to him indulged herself in a few bars, her cheeks reddening as she trailed off as if she was embarrassed. Gorgeous and a talented songbird, not to mention a taste for jazz? Goodness, he owed Husk _quite_ the reward for connecting him with this kitten. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached over to collect one of hers, bringing it to his lips briefly, then lacing their fingers together as he rested his elbow on the middle armrest.

“Let me at least make an attempt to dazzle you before you sweep me off my feet, darling.” At her musical giggle, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Giving him a cocky look, she responded saucily, “Better get a move on, slick. We don’t have all night.” Oh, he _liked_ this one. It was almost a shame when they arrived at their destination.

Hidden behind a gate of trees, and surrounded by luscious landscape, the university stood at the end of a long drive. It had several parts and buildings, all reminiscent of stony castles, large and imposing, but in the starlight it appeared quite romantic. Pulling up to the circle drive, he tossed his keys to the attendant, doing his best not to appear overly-eager as he collected his delicious little date, an arrogant smirk on his face as he noticed how she leaned in close to him. When they entered the space, he felt her tense, and he moved his hand from her shoulder to her hip to distract her from whatever had distressed her.

Inside, the hall had been done up elegantly and befitting a formal gala, albeit a little overindulgent for a simple reunion. A live band had set up on stage, playing music lively enough to dance to, but not loud enough where it discouraged conversation. Along one side of the room was a refreshment table and, what had not been designated as dance floor, had several tables and high-tops littered around for mingling. Already a decent crowd had gathered, swinging to the beat and the blonde searched the gathering for any sign of a familiar face.

“Baby!” The squeal came from one of the tables near the edge of the dance floor; a tall blonde fellow in a shimmering black dress, with a high slit up the side, making a beeline toward them. “Ya look tasty, toots!” Long arms wrapped around Charlie to bring her in close as he kissed each of her cheeks.

Her soft giggling, like the tinkling of bells, filled the area and tawny eyes found themselves drawn to her. “Thank you, Angel! You look amazing, of course.” Blushing she leaned in close, though made no effort to lower her voice, as she found her date’s eyes. “Thank you for inviting Alastor too.”

At the mention of his name, his smile tugged higher, offering a playful wink which only deepened her blush. He was surprised, though, when the effeminate man shoved a finger in his chest, and he stomped down the desire to snatch that hand and break every one of his fingers.

“Don’t think I won’t fuck ya up if ya hurt her in _any_ fuckin’ way, Smiles,” Angel snarled, turning the woman in question away from Alastor slightly. “Guaran-fuckin’-tee deez stiletto heels ain’t jus fa show, pal.”

Amber eyes stared amusingly back at irate mismatched ones for a moment, before the cinnamon-skinned brunette stylishly sidestepped him, a hand at Charlie’s waist to pull her close. “Noted, my good man. Though you may rest assured I require no such violent ultimatums to see to this sweet thing’s every desire.” He made a point to look at her when he said this, his voice pitching lower, huskier, and smiled knowingly when she reacted shyly.

Almost in the crook of his neck, she could smell his cologne, something earthly with a bit of spice and she had to stop herself from taking big inhales of his scent for fear of coming off as strange for smelling him. When he had tilted his head to make eye contact with her, she worried her knees would go out. How did Angel know anyone this attractive and debonair? Perhaps she should inquire more about the radio industry, if it meant working with gorgeous creatures like this on the regular.

When the pro skirt made to speak again, Alastor turned away, casually inviting his companion to dance for a distraction. What he did not expect was dark eyes to light up with happiness and those tempting lips to widen into the most incredible smile he had ever seen, her shy demeanor melting away into barely contained excitement. Handing her bolero and purse to Angel with a quick mumble of thanks and she was tugging him eagerly onto the dance floor. Like a moth to a flame, all he could do was follow her willingly, not even paying attention to where she chose to lead him.

For several songs they lost each other to blend effortlessly into one, their bodies moving together instinctively as if they had been partners for years. Charlie was elated to be with a man who not only was willing to dance with her, but was _good_ at it. For so long, her exes, or even casual dates, would be too embarrassed or completely uninterested; something about it apparently not being ‘manly’ enough. Yet, despite his thinner frame, this man was all muscles, the way he moved his body was solid grace, and it was exhilarating to be in his arms. During more of the lively songs, they’d take up more of the floor, their stylish spins and impressive kicks demanding attention from all around them. There was something about moving one’s body free and fearless to music, something so simple yet hypnotic, and she was breathless in her joy. At length, a slower song queued up, and she was grateful for the break.

“Goodness, darling, you are full of surprises, aren’t you?” Out of breath himself, he took great pleasure in pulling the little lamb to him, delighting in the press of her warm, supple body against his.

Her face was full of adoration when she looked up at him, her small hands eagerly seeking out his shoulder and intertwining fingers with her other, and he found his breath stolen away for an entirely new reason. “I’ve never met a man who can dance so well!” She praised reverently. “Handsome, voice like a dream, _and_ can dance? I’ll have to ask Angel to help me pick out dates more often.”

Given her skill at singing, he likely shouldn’t have been shocked to uncover her talent at dancing, but he was. Rarely were the women he escorted interested in any excessive movements outside the bedroom, not due to lack of skill, but moreso their stuffier nature. As his mind drifted, he realized none of the other women he’d met had been remotely interested in _him_ either. His body, absolutely, occasionally his charm, but who he was or what he enjoyed, not at all. The realization prompted a fond smile on his lips, leading Charlie into a slow waltz.

Tilting her chin up, he lowered his face to hers until their lips were dangerously close, other arm tight at her back, and he drank in her adorably flustered reaction. “Why, you’re breaking my heart, doll, if you’re already thinking of moving on.” Teasingly, he leaned into whisper in her ear, “When I am finished with you, sweetheart, you will be hard pressed to even remember another man’s name.”

“That’s a pretty big claim, Alastor,” she whispered, doe eyes lidded, and her lips turned upwards in a challenge.

“It’s a promise, Charlie.” He had almost kissed her, lips nearly touching, when a hand landed on his shoulder, wrenching him backward with such a force he practically stumbled.

Twisting around, he nearly snarled at the intruder, his ever-present smile painfully tight on his face. A man slightly shorter than him, in a deep emerald tuxedo, jet black hair slicked back, and shifty eyes gave him a bored look before turning unkind, green eyes to Charlie. Curiously, his date began recoiling immediately, the unease prevalent in her body language.

“Well, look who it is,” he sneered, his voice light, but with a knife-like edge to it. Paying no mind to her obvious discomfort, he reached out to yank her body against his. “Charlotte, it’s so good to see you again. My, you do look quite _ravishing_.”

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she did her best to push away from his vice grip, a panic building inside of her to see him. All too well she remembered how it felt to be in his clutches, the vicious, condescending words, never being talented enough, pretty enough, anything enough. She had prepared herself to see him; she had not prepared for him to touch her. “Seviathan, let **go** …”

“Come on, one dance isn’t going to hurt you.” Without waiting for a response, he attempted to wrestle movement out of her, but stubbornly her limbs remained rooted.

“I say, my good man, I don’t recall giving you permission to cut in.” Tapping politely on the man’s shoulder, Alastor used the shorter’s momentary distraction to twist a wrist away from the blonde, the pain enough for Seviathan to release her entirely. Immediately, she moved away, tucking herself next to her date to try to hide away from the gathering stares of other dancers. At the tentative hand on his arm, the brunette glanced down as he brought his arm higher, using it as a shield against the gathering rage from the other man.

“Who the fuck are you?” The roar reminded Alastor of a small, angry cat, claws and teeth out, but really only able to do minimal harm. “Everyone knows Charlotte is _my_ girl.”

“I haven’t been _your_ girl for over five years, and, quite frankly, I’d like to _keep_ it that way,” the blonde behind his arm snapped haughtily. Alastor couldn’t help but grin, clearly his date had her own claws.

Seviathan took a menacing step forward in her direction, and though Alastor easily put himself in front of his path, the black-haired man ignored him, continuing to speak directly to Charlie. “It’s your loss. I bet you just hired some sleezy escort to keep you company tonight.”

Undaunted and feeling bold with her date’s protection, she turned slightly away from him with a huff. “Even if he was an escort, at least he’s _worth_ the time, money, and effort. Regardless, you’re ruining our evening, so could you please go away?”

While her response prompted an egotistical smirk from Alastor, his mirth prevalent in his chuckling as the other man stomped away like a child, it further confirmed his suspicions that the darling indeed did not know he was, in fact, an escort. But, oh, she was a little spitfire; as much as her innocent presentation did wonders for his voracious appetite, that _bite_ had him licking his lips in anticipation for how she might be in bed.

Spinning around, the crowd dissipating now that the scene was over, he took in her adorable pout, her lingering anger still cooling, and he smiled amicably as he guided her away from the dance floor. They only made it a few steps before she took over, and he fell into step behind her, through a set of doors and a long corridor, until they started passing classrooms. Finally, she pulled him into one, closing the door once they were alone.

Confused static filled her brain as she tried to calm herself. The trauma she had thought long buried, festered under her skin, the feeling of his hands on her an unwanted reminder of times when no one had come to her rescue, when all she could do was hope he’d lose interest after he was satisfied. She supposed that could have gone a lot worse, but she had been having such a wonderful time with Alastor! Part of her wanted to faint at the overwhelming suffocation she felt in Seviathan’s presence, the other part of her wanted to swoon at how Alastor had come to her rescue as if was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

“Are you all right, darling?” His charming voice had her spinning round to him, a sheepish smile on her face. He stood not far from her, arms at his back, bent a little to lean into her space, his eyes searching.

“Y-Yes. Sorry to drag you here, I just needed to get away.” Walking around him, she took in their surroundings, a simple classroom took on an eerie ambience when only lit by the moonlight. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me.”

“Seems to me you did rather well on your own, little kitten,” he mused as he watched her roam. 

Looking back at him, the filtered nightlights cast him in an ethereal glow, his light tawny eyes near luminous with a strange, milky hue, the darkness hugging his thick hair and eyelashes, making them seem almost black, while soft highlights played on the chiseled features of his face. A devilishly handsome specter who had her completely under his spell. When his smile tugged higher on his lips, she realized she’d been staring too long, and her hands came to her cheeks to calm the rising blush, her eyes looking away demurely. 

“You probably could be one, if you wanted to be,” she whispered, mostly to herself as she leaned against the teacher’s desk near the blackboard.

His gaze lowered as her dress pulled higher, grinning at the tantalizing flesh of her long legs. Glancing back up at her beautiful face, he raised a curious eyebrow. “One what, my dear?”

“An escort,” the blonde responded with a casual shrug of her shoulders. “Assuming you ever get tired of radio, I suppose. You’re so handsome and gentlemanly.”

It was idle conversation, benign chit chat for her to think about something else other than what had transpired earlier and perhaps encourage the romantic atmosphere. He knew that, and he could certainly take a compliment, happily so from a dame as bewitching as this one, but an unease filled him at her ignorance. Normally his clients knew the arrangement, what they were getting into, but not this pretty blonde.

“I’m certainly pleased you think so, my darling, because…” he paused, looking her in the eyes, those large, gorgeous eyes. “He wasn’t exactly incorrect.”

Once, twice, those eyes blinked then widened as she dismounted from the desk. “O-Oh…I, um…I guess I should have guessed. You seemed a little too good to be true.” Her smile was genuine, but it was tinged with sadness as she made to leave the room. So _that’s_ how she was able to date a suave celebrity, because Angel had paid for his company; she knew she should have asked more questions when he magically produced a companion for her.

Pacifying though the passing compliment was likely meant to be, it was difficult for him to not feel defensive. With a broad smile to hide his bruised ego, he reached out to one of her retreating hands, spinning her back to him until she was pressed so close there was no space for even air between them. “The circumstances which brought me to your divine company surely are irrelevant as long as you enjoy your evening. Or do you mean to say, Charlie, you’re no longer interested?”

So intimately in his arms, it was difficult to keep a clear head, to not simply raise onto her tiptoes and see if his lips were as soft as they looked. “I’m interested,” she said with her cheeks burning. “But, y-you’re not.”

“However did I give you that impression, kitten?” His breath was whispering along her mouth now; it really was unfair how one man could be so alluring.

“You’re only interested because you’re being paid to be interested. You don’t wa—” Warm lips pressed to hers and her eyelids fluttered close, willingly offering herself. When she did not resist, a hand came to rest at the back of her head as he changed angles to better access her.

Initially she was yielding and submissive, both attributes he preferred in a lover, but when his tongue pressed into her delicious mouth, it was as if a switch was flipped. Whimpering against him, her hands trailed up his arms, to his broad shoulders, to comb through his soft, brown locks, nails raking along his scalp; a boldness taking over her, as she gave his hair a sharp tug. Groaning, he pushed her forward, the back of her legs bumping against the desk, as his mind was lost in her sweet taste.

Hard wood felt cool and soothing to her feverish skin, the grounding effect immediate and welcome. Slowly she pulled away from his lips, her dark eyes glassy with lust and she felt a shiver run through her to see the predatory way he looked at her, as though he wanted to devour her. Idly, her fingers skimmed through the short hair at the base of his neck, tilting her head to the side slightly to consider him, her golden curls cascading over her shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to, Alastor.” White teeth sank into her lip as she worried it in thought.

“Darling, I don’t _have_ to do anything,” he hummed with amusement. “But, if you’re worried about some sort of obligation, there is none. I select my clients and chose whether or not there is any physicality between us. Rest assured,” he bent low to lick the shell of her ear, whispering the rest, his breath warm against the now moist skin. “I am most eager to continue.”

And he was. Her hesitance was still present, but he smiled to know it was due to worries of him lacking choice, not from her being unwilling. No man could refuse such a woman, and he was no exception, he’d be foolish to turn down such an opportunity.

“My services have been reserved for the entire evening, sweetheart,” he said with overly confident smirk as he gently turned her so her back was to his front, leaning into her until the desk pressed into her thighs, her body pitching at the waist to rest her hands on the tabletop. One hand tugged her hips back, a low hiss escaping his lips as her plump ass pressed against his erection, the fingers of his other hand dancing dangerously high under her dress. “Let me have you, Charlie.”

Liquid fire was pooling low in her belly, heat flaring across her chest with arousal, her panties already long soaked from their heated kissing and merely being in his company most of the night, and she pursed her lips to mute her needy whine. Apparently it wasn’t quite enough, because she felt him discard his jacket hastily, then the clear sound of a zipper being undone. Impatiently, he hiked up her skirts, pulling aside her panties, as something thick and warm rubbed against her moist slit.

“Give me your consent before I ruin you, darling.” Alastor’s voice low and dark in her ear and she nodded weakly as she fell forward to lay her chest on the desk, her hips raised in invitation.

Roughly, he thrust into her in one go, his head tossing back with a deep groan, lips curling in satisfaction. It was like deflowering a virgin, so sinfully did she grip him, her own small yip of pleasure encouraging his hips to pull back slowly and plunge forward again. “ _Merde, tu es si serré_ …”

Of course he spoke French, because how could he _be_ any more perfect? As he started to move in earnest, all thought vanished from her mind, his large cock pressing hard into her womb even with the shallowest of thrusts and it was all she could to do to keep her knees from buckling. She arched her back wantonly as her breasts pressed tightly to the bodice, threatening to spill at any moment, her body fervently chasing the incredible sensations he was giving her. In her haze of desire, she barely registered how the hard edge of the desk was pushing into the soft flesh of her thighs, the furniture groaning its protest at the activity, only focusing on how well he worked her.

The seductive siren at his mercy was driving him near wild with how her tight heat trembled around him, her breathless whines and mewls stroking his pride, moving her hips like a trained succubus as she yielded to him. Bracing an arm near her shoulder as his other hand kept a firm grasp on her hips, he kept his bucks at a slow, but forceful pace. Glancing around their setting, an idea floated to the top of his lust-fogged brain.

“Why, Miss Magne, seeking a little extra credit, are we?” He grinned and picked up his speed when her pussy clenched in response. So she liked roleplay, how _delightful_.

Pushing her chest off the desk, she looked coyly over her shoulder, her cheeks reddened, and eyes lidded with want. “P-Please.. _ahn_! P-Professor B-Bau-AH-delaire…g-give me j-just a little _mmn_ - _more_!”

Growling his approval at their little repartee, he attacked the tender skin of her neck and shoulder with lips, teeth, and tongue, proudly leaving bruise after bruise, already looking forward to parading this treasure in front of her ex and all her friends properly marked by him. How intoxicating it was to have someone so in sync with his desires, who so easily fell into step with him. He might have to keep this one.

“Oh, my dear, I am more than happy to _give_ it to you,” he grunted into her soft curls, voice gravelly as he set a brutal speed, pounding eagerly into her hot cunt until she was a mess of whimpers under him.

Pleasure coursed through every nerve of her body as she struggled to hold herself up against his onslaught. His assertiveness and powerplay only fed the ache within her, body desparate to encourage his conquest of her, peak so close she could taste it. At one point she tried to remember if she’d ever had better, but each time she tried to formulate even a simple thought, his dick was hammering inside her again and she couldn’t think past the blinding hedonism.

“P-Professor!” Charlie mewled as he savagely grabbed one of her breasts over her dress. She wondered absently if he would have ripped it if they hadn’t still been in the middle of a college reunion.

Control was slipping through his fingers the longer he rutted with her, the quivering of her warm, velvety walls threatening to undo him. But he would not let up, no, not until he felt her body spasm around his. “My, you’re the best in class, aren’t you? Cum for me, Miss Magne, and I’ll fill up your greedy pussy.”

When she pressed back against him, a playful wiggle of her hips, he groaned. “B-But Professor B-Baudelaire…AHN! I-I’m not on birth c-control…”

For a breath he paused their mating; not for worry, he was shocked to find, but from pure exhilaration. He certainly had no interest in offspring, but the _idea_ of filling her with a child, his seed, of claiming this divine little minx entirely was thrilling. She turned her head slightly to look at him, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief, and he resumed his thrusting, enjoying the view of her porcelain ass bouncing against the force of his hips.

“Then be a good girl and get pregnant for me, hm?” Alastor commanded huskily in her ear.

The lascivious command in that sentence made her shudder, and with a sweet cry, her back arching, she came violently, her muscles drawn tight like a bow string finally releasing as her body shivered around her climax. It was indescribable, lights bursting beyond her eyelids, her inner walls clinging needily to his cock as he continued to snap his hips to hers in pursuit of his own release.

It didn’t take long, there was only so much a man could do to stay composed with such a delicious partner, her uninhibited signs of pleasure, and her tight heat trying to wring him dry. With a few final bucks, he finally tumbled after, emptying everything he had into her warm, desperate womb. Gently, he nuzzled into the other side of her neck, lavishing it with attention as he tried to regain his senses. For a few moments they were near motionless in their afterglow, the slow rise and fall of their chests as they caught their breath and his soft kisses the only indication neither had fallen asleep. She was the first to break the silence.

“Well, I don’t know how much you’re usually compensated,” the blonde began cheekily. “But you’re worth every penny.” She yelped when he slapped her ass, quickly dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Chuckling, he rolled his hips, relishing in her loud gasp. “Darling, I’d fuck you for free.”

“Language, Professor,” she teased, looking over her shoulder as he pulled free from her.

Languidly, they cleaned up, put their clothes to right, and exchanged secretive, flirtatious smiles and when she held her dainty hand out to his, to lead him back to the dance hall, he knew he was in trouble. Deep in his chest, he could feel his heart stutter at her smile, gentle but playful, and seemingly only for him; he could feel a goofy, lovesick smile spreading on his lips before he could stop himself. When was the last time he felt enthusiasm to be around another like this without needing to end that life? Allowing his petite companion to tug him quietly back through corridors and archways, he appreciated her sheer magnificent beauty as she looked back at him, cheeks reddening with shy eyes, he concluded that no, he’d never felt quite like this before.

Delight blossomed in her every moment she caught his light, amber eyes, each time she saw his attention devoted to her, as if she was the only thing he wanted to look at. After the betrayal, hurt, and confusion of her relationship with Seviathan, she had sworn off men entirely and had thoroughly enjoyed some soothing comfort in the arms of some very appealing women, but lately her heart felt empty, with no one to wake up to, share her interests, or even call her name like a lover would. Fortune seemed to win her the veritable jackpot with the dream following in her wake and she was worried she might wake to find him gone.

Music drifted to their ears as they crossed the threshold back into the makeshift ballroom, the crowd having grown thicker with more couples out on the dancefloor, and chatter from the surrounding tables. They had barely taken a few steps before a short, dark haired woman with latte skin in a figure-hugging, little ebony dress approached. Her eye narrowed in Alastor’s direction before she addressed the blonde.

“Glad to see you, hon,” The Latina grinned as she pointed to the dance floor. “Want to dance? I need someone to go easy on me, and Cherri is cutting a rug with Angel.”

“Oh, sure, Vaggie!” Charlie chirped, but instead stepped backward to be at her date’s shoulder. “This is Alastor, by the way. Alastor, this is my best friend Vaggie.”

Ever the gentleman, he fell into an easy bow, one arm across his waist as his other hand settled on Charlie’s back. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear.”

“Charmed,” the shorter girl deadpanned. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but if you hurt Charlie, I’ll dice and burn whatever is left of you when Angel is done.”

“Goodness me, you certainly have creative friends, my darling,” he cooed in the blonde’s ear, smirking when she blushed and giggled adorably.

Vaggie narrowed her eye as it bounced back and forth between the two before rolling it, snatching her friend’s hand and pulling her onto the dance floor. Now companionless, Alastor allowed his eyes to watch Charlie for a few moments, appreciating her effortless grace before he searched the tables, eventually finding a familiar figure. Humming to himself, he made his way through the crowd, weaving past tables, until he helped himself to a seat next to a wide-shouldered, older man, with short black-hair in a gray dress shirt and loosened tie, nursing a drink.

“Husker chum, delightful to see you!” A cheerful grin and hard slap on his shoulder, and dark eyes slid to him in annoyance.

“Yeah, fuckin’ lucky me,” he groused, tone toing a line between bored and indifferent. “Ya know ya fuckin’ owe me, right?”

Leaning back in the chair, tawny eyes found a swirl of crimson and gold on the dance floor, a satisfied tiredness settling into his bones from their earlier activities. Readily, he agreed with his friend. “Quite right you are, Husker. Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were playing matchmaker.” Leaning onto the table with his forearms, licking his lips while he continued to watch, razor-focused on the talented kitten. “I must say…excellent choice, old boy.”

Hiding a victorious grin behind his drink, the older man watched the younger. In truth, the suggestion to Angel to request Alastor had been for his own sake as much as the brunette’s. Listening to folks whine was part of his job as a bartender, but he’d grown weary of Alastor’s complaints about his clientele and while the younger man might have been truly clueless as to the real problem, Husk wasn’t. The side hustle, as lucrative as it might have been, wasn’t the man’s cup of tea; as much as he liked to claim he enjoyed the emotionally detached sex, his soul needed a connection. Alastor would never admit it, of course, probably didn’t even realize it, and if Husk himself hadn’t experienced the exact same thing with Angel, he might not have noticed it either.

“Cute, blonde, sings, dances, and likes jazz,” the older man stated, listing off her features as if he were selling him a car. “Not ta mention nice ass and tits.” At the disgusted look from the younger man, Husk rolled his eyes. “Don’t try ta tell me ya haven’t seen them. I saw ya coming back together from who the fuck knows where.”

Clearing his throat in an attempting to appear chastising, Alastor looked down his nose at his slouching friend. “If you must know I haven’t seen everything.” He grinned, “Though the evening is certainly not over yet.”

Hours passed, between dinner, dancing, and conversation, the small group enjoying their time together discussing old memories and upcoming plans. As her cherished friends planned dates and outings, Charlie did her best not to daydream about including the man at her side, his arm lazily laying over her shoulder, but she found her brain did not obey. She wondered what type of found he enjoyed, if he preferred to cook or go out, whether or not he’d want to take her dancing or turn on music in her apartment to tango with her there. So many questions buzzed in her mind, yet she couldn’t bring herself to ask, nervous as she was that after tonight, she’d never see him again.

At the end of the evening, Alastor helped her into her lace bolero as she collected her clutch. Farewells and hugs between the friends were exchanged before he had the kitten to himself again, on his arm as they waited for the valet. For a brief moment, his gaze was drawn away to collect his keys and provide a few bills for a tip and then his date’s hand slipped from his elbow, a loud squeak prompting him to turn his head back to her. The sight that met him had him crumpling the money in hand. Seviathan had Charlie squeezed to his chest, dipped slightly back as he kissed her roughly, his eyes shut in an attempt to savor the moment while the blonde was trying, unsuccessfully to push him away, doe eyes wide in shock.

Irritably, the brunette concluded the transaction with the valet, collecting his keys and turned sharply on his heel to face the pest. Though, he desperately wanted to break them apart, he would not risk the other man hurting Charlie. So, as patiently as he could, he stood ramrod straight, arms at his back, nails nearly biting into his palms for how tightly he clenched his fists. After an agonizing eternity, the shorter male finally ended the kiss, letting her stand up, though he stubbornly maintained his hold.

“Kindly remove your filthy hands from my date, my good fellow, before I do it for you.” There was a smile on his face, sharp and tight, and did nothing to hide the animosity in his tone when amber eyes clashed with emerald.

Tension seeped into the atmosphere while the two males stared each other down, hostility sparking in the air between them and Charlie thought she might suffocate from the testosterone. While Seviathan’s attention was on her date, she took matters into her own hands; well, feet. Without mercy, she drove the heel of a red pump straight into the black-haired man’s foot, causing him to erupt in a chorus of howls and curses, his hold on her forgotten. Immediately, she rushed to Alastor, who gathered her quickly into his arms, kissing her forehead briefly, before guiding her behind him.

“Fuck you bitch!” Seviathan snarled in pain, hobbling on his injured foot.

Striding forward, he gripped the shorter male by the collar, hoisting him until his feet dangled helplessly. Faces near inches apart, his eyes filling with ice as he sneered at the pathetic whelp in his hold, leaning into whisper dangerously, “If you _ever_ touch her again, I promise it will be the last thing you ever do. Do I make myself clear?”

It was laughable, really, how fast the fight died in the shorter man, how quickly he deflated, nodding his head vigorously. Dropping him unceremoniously onto his ass, Alastor wiped his hands on the labels of his suit as if trying to remove any lingering grime from the other male. He said nothing as he returned to Charlie, easing her into the car, but once the door was close and he made his way round to the driver’s side, his sharp eyes narrowed at the green-eyed boy still on the sidewalk.

“In fact, my good man, it’s probably best if you go out of your way to avoid the sweet belle altogether. I hate to see her distressed, you see, and I’d so hate to gouge out those pretty eyes of yours.” He grinned cheerily to see the color drain from the man’s face, and then he was sliding into the black sportscar and driving away.

A few minutes ticked by without any sound from the golden-haired kitten, and his chest constricted painfully when he thought he saw her shoulders shake. “Are you alright, my darling?” He reached across the seat to lightly glide his fingertips comfortingly across her knuckles.

She rotated her hand to hold his as she graced him with a grateful smile. “Yes, thank you. You’re my hero tonight,” she teased, though her eyes grew sad as she turned to watch the road. “It was so nice to meet you, Alastor, and I had a really great time tonight…Seviathan aside.” Amber eyes drifted to the side to glance at her, curious at her melancholic tone. “It was a dream come true to meet you.”

“Is there a reason you’re speaking as though everything is over, sweetheart?” Was she having regrets? He had thoroughly enjoyed himself and worry ate at him at the thought she was not equally captivated by him.

“I mean, I’m not sure I can even afford a date with you.” Her whisper was meek, but playful.

_Ah_. “Are you interested in dating me, kitten? Perhaps I could give you a discount, since you’re such a pretty thing.” He lowered his voice as he gave her an arrogant smirk, “And rather delightful in bed.”

At a stop light, she leaned over her warm breath ghosting along his neck and jaw. “You technically haven’t taken me to bed, Alastor. Not to an actual bed anyway.” Dusting featherlight kisses near the high collar of his scarlet dress shirt, he took a shuddering breath to steady himself against the temptress at his side. “I’ll let you take me to your bed, though, if you go on another date with me.”

The green glow of the traffic light had the car rolling again as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, trying to play off his growing arousal. “It’s been a while since I haven’t been paid to go on a date, sweetheart.” He nearly jumped when she gave him a quick lick before retreating to her seat again.

“It’s okay, I understand,” she replied cheekily, trying to keep her victorious grin hidden. She’d be blind to not see how his large erection strained painfully against his slacks. “You can just drop me off at the supermarket. Thanks for driving us!”

It was like whiplash, to have the seductress melt away so quickly to cheerful indifference. When he parked at the familiar grocery store and she made to leave, his hand shot out, gripping golden curls to tilt her head back, crashing his lips to hers as he plunged his tongue into her wet little mouth, plundering her sweet taste and swallowing her surprised mewls.

“Be mine, Charlie.” Quickly spoken through heated kisses, it wasn’t a question as much as a command for her to yield. “I’ll take you to my bed tonight and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“Yes, Alastor. I’ll be yours,” came her sweet, lust-drunk reply and he smiled against her lips as she gave herself over to him.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it! Charlastor Week 2021 is done! Had to finish it off with something a little _spicy_. 🥵 I'm not 100% in love with this one, but I had to call it done for my sanity. 🤪 
> 
> These challenges were a lot of fun, though a little creatively draining. Feel like I need a long nap. 😴💤 What did you think, my dears? Which one was your favorite? 🤔💭 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! 📚


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